


The Cold

by elliemoran



Category: Skip Beat!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Comfort, Common Cold, F/M, Skip Beat! Secret Santa 2016, bo is revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9090931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliemoran/pseuds/elliemoran
Summary: Kyoko has a cold. And she's alone, and a little miserable, and a lot out of it. Only maybe she's not so alone after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fromageinterrupted](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fromageinterrupted).



> This is my gift to fromageinterrupted on Tumblr, for the 2016 Skip Beat! Secret Santa
> 
> I hope you like it!

Kyoko dropped face-down onto the bed, burying her aching head in the hotel pillows. Every inch of her skin felt bruised, painful, as though hordes of tiny, angry buffalo had spent the last few hours stampeding over her entire body.

The idea seemed oddly appropriate, and for a second, she distracted herself by imagining a pack of mini vultures, circling over her prone body, ready to swoop in at her last breath. 

A strong shiver shattered the fantasy, and she was back, miserable but alone.

Her throat felt so dry. She lifted her face out of the pillows enough to eye the little kitchenette on one side of the hotel room. Even the thought of swallowing water made her throat hurt, but that was all she had – the mini-fridge had nothing in it. Not even a teabag.

She rolled over onto her back, blinking blearily as she tried to build up the strength to sit. She’d have to go to the store. She hadn’t wanted any of the cast or crew to worry, so she’d put on such a good ‘totally fine’ act that it hadn’t been till she got back to the room that she’d remembered she needed to buy medicine, at least.

But it had been her fault, and there was no way she would ever let her own irresponsibility affect work. She’d been so excited during the flight, arriving in New York for the first time in her life, and then she’d dived right into filming her new role – the young protégé of a time-travelling detective. She’d paid no attention to the warning signs until it was too late. Now she had a full blown cold.

To herself, she could admit a little pride at how well she’d hidden it from everyone. But now she felt as though the wintery cold of outside had settled deep in her bones, and she couldn’t seem to stop shivering.

With an exhausted sigh, she decided to try and warm up a little before heading out. Stretching out an arm, she grabbed a handful of blanket and rolled herself into a burrito.

She had two days before she had to be back on set, and then only one more day before they all moved on to the next location in Texas where they’d shoot the rest of the film - including the most important scenes for her character, who was on a secret mission to get revenge on the time-travelling cowboy that had murdered her parents.

Maria and the President would be meeting her there, and though she’d managed to fool them on the phone - she was mostly sure - in person was always a lot harder. Hopefully she’d be all better by then.

A cough caught her off guard, sending pain through her entire body. She curled herself tightly into the blanket as she imagined Kanae patting her head, telling her she’d be all better soon enough. Tiredness lowered her self-control, and she found her mind altering Kanae's cool fingers to the larger hands of another, altogether different person.   

She told herself she needed to get up, buy medicine, make herself something to eat.

Instead, she slept.

 

 

 

When she woke, she was still dreaming of a hand stroking her forehead. Or at least she thought she must still be dreaming. It felt remarkably real.

Her eyes opened and she squinted, trying to see past bright spotlight of the bedside lamp. A deep voice murmured an apology, and the light switched off.

The face over hers was beyond familiar, framed by hair that seemed pale in the now dim room, but might not have been. And yet – it couldn’t be Ren. “Corn?”

“Miss Mogami.”

It _was_ Ren. Kyoko’s eyes widened. “Ren? How are you here?”

“You think I’m less likely than a fairy prince?”

Kyoko hesitated, unsure at the odd note in Ren’s voice.  

With a shake of his head, Ren smiled and laid his cool hand along the side of her face. “It’s fine. Sleep.”

Without thought, Kyoko leaned her cheek into the broad palm, her eyes already closing. She was so very tired that she barely had time to decide that this truly must all be her imagination before she slipped firmly back into sleep.  

 

 

 

As Kyoko’s breath evened out, Ren, very much not a figment of Kyoko’s imagination, wondered for possibly the millionth time what exactly she thought of him. She’d seen him with blond hair enough times now that he’d thought she wouldn’t confuse him with Corn anymore – but evidently he’d been wrong.

And evidently, also, she thought the fairy prince was more likely to appear in her hotel room.  

Still, this was ok. He’d spent most of the flight and the drive to the hotel wondering how he’d explain to Kyoko why he’d decided to visit her – he’d had a job in LA, but he knew she knew enough geography to figure out that wasn’t exactly next door to New York City.

And then he’d gotten the call from Maria as he’d stepped into the lobby, and he’d been too distracted to worry about excuses anymore. And since the President was now involved he had no problem getting into her room – the hotel had let him in. 

He’d found a curled up Kyoko, and he’d jumped into action.

Or at least he’d wanted to. He had not the slightest clue what to do – he’d only ever had one cold, and he hadn’t realized how expertly he’d been taken care of until he stood staring down at a shivering Kyoko with no idea how to help her.

He’d taken off her coat, gotten her under the covers. He hadn’t touched her clothes, though she looked uncomfortable - as few barriers as Setsu had had when it came to walking in on Cain, Ren had been very careful to keep well away from any accidental glimpses the other way around, and he wasn’t planning on changing that anytime soon.  

A light tap at the door had Ren gliding smoothly across the room, opening it to find the flustered hotel receptionist who’d helped him in earlier.

“Um. Mr- uh. Sir.” The young woman’s freckled cheeks were almost as red as her hair, and Ren had to wonder what exactly the President had said on the phone to get the staff to let him into Kyoko’s room.

“Here-” She held out two bulging plastic bags, seeming relieved as he took them from her. “We got everything we could think of, I hope it’s ok.”

Ren smiled, and the girl’s flush grew, but she managed to flash him a shy smile. “The manager said I could go get whatever, if you need more stuff.”

“Thank you, I’ll let you know.”

As he shut the door, Ren peered doubtfully into the bags.  

There was medicine, several kinds. He’d have to look up which ones were best on his phone. He saw oranges – those were easy – as was the milk, although he had a sneaking suspicion he was supposed to do more with that than just pour it into a glass. The baffling boxes and cans he’d leave alone, for now, although he recognized the label on one soup can that he’d battled with before, so maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.

But the ice pack he definitely knew what to do with. Or at least he thought he did, until he unpacked it and found it wasn’t cold at all. He stuck it in the freezer, and grabbed a small towel and wet it in the sink.

He was pretty sure he’d seen people use wet towels for fevers in at least one script.

As he placed it on Kyoko’s forehead, he was relieved to see she instantly seemed more comfortable, some of the tenseness in her frame easing.

Blowing out a long breath, Ren stood up straight. With determination in his eyes he turned back to face the bags he’d dropped on the counter.

He was going to make her a meal.

 

 

 

It was hard, and it took several attempts, but in the end Ren had a passable collection of things that he was pretty sure would be edible.

It took him a minute to wake Kyoko, but as she blinked up at him he was relieved to see a little more clarity in her eyes.

“Ren?”

He couldn’t help his smile. “Yes. We went over this already.”

“That actually happened?”

“Right.”

“Oh.” Her eyelashes fluttered against too-pale cheeks, and Ren realized she wasn’t entirely awake.

“I made you food.”

It took her a second, but her eyes snapped open, and alarm was clear in her voice. “You made food?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Mostly from a can.”

As he helped her sit up against the pillows and set the tray he’d carefully prepared across her lap, he tried not to be too obvious as he watched her reaction.

Her face was expressionless as she stared down at the bowl of soup, the peeled and diced orange, and the mug of tea he’d managed to put together.

“You made food.” Her voice was blank, and for a moment Ren wondered if she was genuinely upset. The moment evaporated as she turned her face up to his, and he saw the shining wonder in her eyes. “You made food for me.”

His breath caught in his throat, and Ren clamped down on his self-control. He watched her hand as it picked up the spoon. The soup spilled a little as she lifted it to her mouth, but she managed to get most of it.

“It’s good.”

Ren debated telling her about the failed bowl of soup currently sitting by the sink – he hadn’t realized you didn’t _always_ have to add an extra can of water, but decided to leave it for the moment. In any case, she wasn’t able to eat more than a few spoonfuls and a piece of the orange, but as he pulled the tray away he was happy to see her cheeks seemed slightly less pale.

 

 

 

Over the next few hours they followed the same pattern. She would sleep, and he’d warm up small amounts of soup for her to eat every time she woke. Eventually, she was able to change her own clothes – it had become a necessity as they’d become damp and uncomfortable from sweat – and Ren started to think they were on the way out.

It was about five in the morning when her restless movements woke him again. Sitting up in the chair he’d fallen asleep in – it had been moderately comfortable at first, now it wasn’t remotely – Ren glanced over at Kyoko.

Instantly alarmed, he jumped up and moved quickly to her side. She was flushed, remarkably so, and shivering badly. When he moved the warm ice pack away and put his hand on her forehead he found it bone dry.    

He grabbed his phone, ready to call the President and get him to send an actual doctor, when he felt Kyoko grip his wrist.

“So cold.” A fresh shiver took them both by surprise. Her eyes seemed to be asking for something as she stared up at him.

Ren hovered next to her. She was clinging to his hand, and tightly holding onto the blanket around her. She looked as though she wanted any more warmth she could get.

Not giving himself time to change his mind, Ren leaned over and scooped her up, blanket and all. He carried her over to the uncomfortable chair and sat, with her in his arms and the blanket draped over them both, trapping as much heat as he could.

She burrowed into him instantly, tucking her head against his chest. It was hot under the blanket, but he felt the shivers still wracking her body. Ren decided that if they hadn’t eased within fifteen minutes he’d call a doctor himself.

As they sat, he watched the city light outside, bright even against the pre-dawn sky. Despite his worry, he felt at peace, and was amused at himself for it.

He really was so far gone.

After a long while, Kyoko’s shivers eased, and he felt her settle more naturally against him. He thought she’d fallen asleep until she spoke.

“Why did you come, Ren?”

He wasn’t prepared for the question, and instead of the words he’d carefully prepared he found himself on the verge of saying something far too true. Stopping himself just in time, he scrambled to come up with something, anything to say.

“I was returning the favor.”

“What favor?”

“You took care of me when I had a cold, after all.”

She pulled her head away, her expression suspicious, if a bit bleary, as she stared up at him. “I don’t like that.”

Ren blinked. He knew his excuse wouldn’t hold up to much of any logic, but he hadn’t expected that response. “Why not?”

She frowned. “I don’t know. But I don’t.” She dropped her head to rest it against his chest again.

For some reason, Ren felt the old, familiar, and traitorous feeling of hope welling up. He knew better, but couldn’t stop it entirely. He lifted a hand, wiped damp hair away from her forehead. Maybe it was the relief of finding out she was sweating again, or maybe it was the irrepressible hope, but he let himself say _something_ of the truth.

 “I wanted to see you.”

She went stiff for a long, painful moment, and then with a big sigh, relaxed against him again. A finger poked at his chest. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to just anyone. You should only say things like that to that one girl.”

“That one girl?”

“That girl. The one you love.”

“Who says I have a girl I love.” Ren spoke carefully, his mind flashing to the President, or Yashiro.

“You did! You told Bo.”

“Bo?”

“Bo!”

Completely baffled, and more than a little worried, Ren pulled Kyoko’s head away enough that he could see her face. “Who is Bo?”

Her eyes went wide in shock, and her jaw dropped open “You don’t remember Bo?”

Ren slowly shook his head.

“Hmph. After he helped you with Katsuki and everything.” She nestled her head back against his chest, and a moment later Ren felt her body go lax against him, and her breathing even out. Amazingly, she’d fallen asleep.

He sat, thinking. There were only two people he could think of that he’d ever talked to about his feelings, and while the President was unpredictable, he couldn’t see any way for him to have earned the nickname of ‘Bo’. Yashiro, of course, would never have said anything to Kyoko.

And then Ren had a flash of memory. Of feathers, and a plump, white, talking chicken.

Carefully, he pulled out his phone. A quick search netted him photos of Bo, the chicken from Bridge Rock, and message board after message board of people trying to work out who the actor behind Bo was.

There were whole strings of theories. Apparently the ‘real’ Bo never appeared at live events with Bridge Rock, only on the regular show, and sometimes he was even replaced there, but you could always tell because the real Bo looked like a giant chicken, and the fake Bo looked like an actor wearing a giant chicken suit.  

The mystery seemed to be growing with each episode, and the cast and crew of Bridge Rock seemed to want to protect the real Bo’s actor. None of the guests on the show had ever seen the actor behind the suit. One person had posted a blurry picture of someone with chestnut hair carrying a chicken head, but that was considered pretty inconclusive.

The only other person who seemed to know who Bo was was Sho Fuwa, who got very angry every time they were asked about it.

Ren had been amused, right up until that last fact.

Setting his phone down carefully, he looked down at the girl in his arms. She baffled him, always, and was so unpredictable in every which way. When she woke, he’d have to poke a little and see if there were any other secret roles she’d been hiding. He’d have to see if he could extend his visit. He wondered if there were any other secret roles she hadn’t told him about.

Ren smiled out at the city outside the window. He couldn’t wait for her to wake up.


End file.
